like-a-cut:

iwantmybearsuit:

epilepsyblues:lasipalatsi:

Édith Piaf, 1949.

(via interwar)

I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever, your leg my leg, your arm my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.

Charles Bukowski (via lavandula)

(Source: loveisabigfunnyword)

f-l-e-u-r-d-e-l-y-s:

ruven afanador photographer

secretinmyskin:

”(…) You’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 
— Richard Siken

(Source: calloway)

(Source: lovetruth4us)

ohaymrdth:

rambling boy